Charlie Swan: Vampire Hunter
by Yorik
Summary: Charlie's whole life has been leading up to this. An experiment halfway between prose and free verse. Based on the prompt: "Imagine if Twilight was about Charlie Swan, finding out that his best friend is a werewolf, and that the town doctor he's trusted for years is a vampire? And then he helps them stop the vampires that are murdering everyone?"
1. Chapter 1

**August 2009**

Charlie's whole life has been leading up to this moment.  
The sun goes down out of sight behind a line of trees and  
The whole sky is bleeding red;  
Cocks his shotgun filled with crude silver bullets  
(Bits of his ex wife's old charm bracelet; his daughter's earrings;  
His grandmother's antique cutlery) and tells himself that he's ready for this.  
He wipes the sweat off his upper lip and tries to stop shaking  
But there's no stopping the devil – he knows -  
Reaches into his pocket for a cigarette; fumbles with a box of soggy matches  
And as the tentative flame casts hard shadows across the plane of his face  
Charlie wonders if this is the last cigarette he'll ever have.

* * *

**April 1972**

"Momma, there's somethin' movin' in the field."

Charlie has seen pictures of bears before but he's  
never seen a thing like this. Last week in class Miss  
Hatherley taught them about the Big Brown and the  
Grizzly Black so he considers himself something of an expert;  
Stands up on his tree branch and cranes his neck  
Practically falling off with one foot in the air for balance  
And says again, 'Momma, _look!_'

But Momma is tired from working two back-to-back  
Shifts at the clinic and is in no mood for games;  
So instead of an answer the bone-weary  
Slump of her shoulders is the best she can muster.  
Charlie briefly watches her take a swig from  
A plaid-print coffee flask laced liberally with whiskey before  
Turning his attentions elsewhere; back to the beast.

The thing moves again; long grass parting like hair  
Against a comb and Charlie wonders if all bears move  
This way; so quickly and quietly it seems like a dream -  
But then he sees it pause at the edge of the forest,  
Silhouetted against the bright light and suddenly  
Realises that it's not a bear at all; it's a _wolf_.

The beast is stone-still and Charlie hasn't noticed it  
Yet but he's barely breathing. They watch each other  
For a long moment and Charlie doesn't quite know how, but  
Something doesn't feel right. Then wind picks up again  
And before he can blink the wolf turns around and  
Melts back into the whispering shadow of the woods.

* * *

**December 2008**

"I love him, dad."

Charlie throws his head back as he takes a swig of  
Coffee laced liberally with whiskey. He  
Uses his mother's plaid-print flask;  
Looks up at the girl in the doorway and wonders  
When his daughter turned into a stranger;  
Thinks back to her fifth birthday when  
He drove her down to Seattle for the day and they  
Strolled leisurely through Pike Place Market;  
Stopped to pet the bronze pig and eat whoopie pies  
At the park overlooking the bay.  
He recalls the soft curve of her cheek from when he  
Cradled her in his arms and watched the sun go down  
Over Puget Sound. Wonders where his little girl's gone  
And who this woman is instead; watches her turn away  
And remembers that Belladonna (tinker-bella, baby-bell, my  
Isabella) is deadly nightshade.

* * *

**June 1978**

"I'll let you in on a secret," says Charlie,  
Voice dropping low to a whisper so that  
Billy has to scoot closer to hear -  
"I think there's _somethin'_ in the forest."

Billy leans back and his face is sour like a lemon;  
Tells Charlie he's talking out of his ass and that  
Big foot isn't real.

"Never said it was Big Foot," Charlie starts,  
But Billy's already gone, one arm thrown around  
Quil's shoulders with a careless laugh.

Charlie scuffs the toe of his sneaker against the dirt  
And tries not to feel lonely.

* * *

**November 2004**

Charlie hates hospitals on account that  
He's spent more time in them than out of them,  
But he's doing pretty poorly these days and  
Sue Clearwater said she'd have his hide if he  
Didn't get looked at by someone other than  
The drugstore pharmacist. He takes in the  
Blinding whiteness of those walls and  
Fluorescent lights, faintly-buzzing like  
Flies 'round a fruit bowl, and tries to ignore  
The stench of sterility in chlorine and rubber  
Gloves and the flap of a labcoat worn for  
Twelve straight hours; thinks he's got a migraine  
Coming on - _Goddammit_.

He's not prepared for what comes next - for when time  
Inexplicably stops and all those things that annoyed him so  
Fade into nothingness in the wake of the most  
Beautiful thing he has ever seen – more than Renee, more than  
Baby Bella, more than the rising sunlight  
Against a mountain; finds himself drawn to those  
Burning eyes and thinks that he might be in love;  
Basks in that unwavering gaze and wonders if this isn't God.

"Officer Swan," says the apparition, and in a flash the  
Spell is broken. Charlie's face grows hot and red like a  
Plum; feels a kind of embarrassment he's never  
Known before - an abject humiliation that he will carry  
Within himself for the rest of the month. He averts  
His eyes and clears his throat loudly, forcefully; pinches  
The bridge of his nose and feigns a headache (for all of  
Three seconds, until the migraine returns with full-force).

When Charlie thinks he has recovered he manages a gruff  
Nod and looks up at the man (it _is_ a man, he tells himself stupidly),  
smiling warmly like he's been practicing all day on little  
Old ladies in the waiting room outside; takes his hand in his  
For a firm handshake and says, "I'm Doctor Cullen."

It is in this instant that Charlie realises that the rumors  
Might have some weight to them after all.

* * *

**June 1972**

"This is Billy."

Charlie looks away from the ornament of an eagle  
Taking off and rests his gaze on the boy in the  
Grubby green sweater. Sizes him up in a minute; likes the  
Transparent cautiousness of his eyes and the surety of his  
Body, standing strong with both feet firmly planted  
On the ground. Charlie also likes that he's got a slingshot  
Tucked into the pocket of his shorts because he's a  
Pretty good shot himself. Billy looks like 'trouble' is  
His middle name and Charlie needs a bit of  
Chaos in his orderly life, and so  
_Yes,_ he decides, they can be  
Friends.

* * *

**August 1992**

Isabella won't let go of his trousers and will not be  
Cajoled; says she doesn't care that all the other kids  
Are already having a great time and that she wants to  
Go home – 'Why can't we go _home_, daddy?'  
He's half-tempted to give in and take the day off himself  
But he knows that there's no escaping some things, and he  
Wants his daughter to know that too; wants her to learn how  
To stand strong and sure and keep going even when the going  
Gets tough. He drops to a squat and puts a hand on her soft head,  
Gives her a quirky smile and a kiss on the forehead; says  
That if she has any trouble all she has to do is call the station  
And he'll be there, sirens wailing and lights flashing.

"But just in case you decide to stay," he says,  
"Mom'll be here to pick you up after lunch."

* * *

**August 2009**

There's no sense in waiting, Charlie knows;  
Rolls the cigarette along the length of his lips  
But absentmindedly never smokes the thing;  
Lets it turn to ash and drop to pieces on his  
Regulation police jacket. As the sun goes down  
The shadows stretch and close in on him.  
Charlie strides ahead; tosses the stub onto  
The ground and leaves it there to fizzle out;  
A red eye withering to nothing in the dirt.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES**

Some background! I decided to write this after coming across a prompt on tumblr. To spare you the agony of hunting for it, I will post it here:

"Imagine if Twilight was about Charlie Swan, finding out that his best friend is a werewolf, and that the town doctor he's trusted for years is a vampire? And then he helps them stop the vampires that are murdering everyone?"

_AWESOME_.

I am not familiar with Twilight... BUT HOW COULD I PASS UP A CHALLENGE?! And in spite of my personal preferences, I have had a lot of fun writing this. It will probably not be canon though. Thought I should warn 'ya. Think: Taken meets Van Helsing. The only downside of writing this piece (aside from the fact that my boyfriend is shaming me for writing Twilight fanfiction) is that I had to spend an inordinate amount of time on the Twilight wikia page to actually learn about these characters. No, I don't want to read the books. And I don't want to watch the movie again even though my stepdad insists that it's cute.

But it really was fun. Next chapter: THE GRAND FINALE! Probably.

Reviews are candy! Glob bless you all xxx


	2. Chapter 2

**September 1993**

Renee is shouting - fists clenched, cheeks red and  
Throat raw from emotion; says her life's purpose  
Is regret and that things have to change.  
Charlie cannot bring himself to speak; instead something  
Grows inside him swelling white-hot threatening to  
Burst and all he can do is stare numbly at his wife's face and  
Vacantly compare her expression to the one on their wedding day  
All twisted and grotty; when through the tears she'd whispered,  
"I can't wait to go on an adventure with you" and he'd kissed her  
And wondered if he wasn't dreaming. Meanwhile back in the real  
World Renee Swan (nee Higginbotham) is asking how he can expect  
To carry on a relationship when he'll never communicate; when all  
He'll do is stare in stony silence at a damp patch on the wall instead  
Of being _present_. Chest heaving and face flushed Renee asks what he  
Thinks of himself.

"Isabella is asleep," he says; he doesn't quite know how to translate  
The depths of his feelings; doesn't know how to communicate  
'I love you' and 'I need you' and 'I am afraid' into mere words because  
Words are never enough; have never been enough.

Renee stops fighting; unclenches her fists and finds herself too  
Exhausted to try anymore. Turns around in the doorway and  
Stands defeated. "I want a divorce."

Charlie considers himself a man of action, but in this  
Moment all he can do is stare at that growing damp patch on  
The wall and think about the curve of her mouth when he kissed her  
And she'd promised to take him places; doesn't hear the sound  
Of his wife's footsteps on the stairs as she walks away.

The feeling that has been growing in him all evening deflates  
Like a balloon and leaves him breathless.

* * *

**April 2006**

Bella is different from the girl he used to take fishing on the  
Weekends all those years ago. These days she keeps to herself and  
Rarely smiles; lives her life in a grey daze like she's half-sleeping  
That turns Charlie's stomach into knots. So when she comes home  
From school one afternoon and asks about the Cullens he's more than  
A little surprised; more than a little afraid. Looks into her eyes and for  
The first time since she moved back sees a spark there; a question;  
Something moving in that once-vacant expression.

Fear is the feeling of the evening because Charlie has seen – okay, not seen -  
But definitely _felt_ something amiss about those Cullen kids-who-are-not-kids (not  
Like his Isabella, anyway); reminiscent of beady-eyed crows waiting on  
Telephone wires for scraps of meat or picking at road-kill. The uneasy feeling grows when he  
Sees colour return to his Isabella's cheeks and realises that he's seen this same  
Expression on Renee's face all those summers ago against a fading twilight sky.

He stops to consider how bizarre it is to see traces of his old life (his old self)  
In his daughter; ruefully decides that it's better that she takes after Renee in looks  
Because (let's face it) he'd make a pretty ugly girl.

_Well_, he thinks, _at least she's got my chin_.

* * *

**March 2004**

Charlie can't see beyond the windows because it's raining so hard; a  
Thick sheet of grey-cold and damp trapping the patrons of Ed's Diner in  
A bubble outside of time – or so it would seem - with the old juke crackling  
In the corner and dusty football memorabilia on the walls. Charlie hasn't  
Known this place to change in the twenty three years he's been coming (_Hey!_ says Eddie,  
_The plumbing's new!_); a source of solace to a man to whom the world moves too fast.

Charlie has spent the past nine hours playing bus-boy to the FBI tracking  
A five-man serial killer from Seattle; resents that they treat him like he's stupid because  
No one knows this town like someone who's lived here all their lives and  
Wishes that they'd just _listen_ sometimes; feels something strong and uneasy  
All the way down to his bones and recognises it as foreboding.

"What did they want, Charlie?" asks Maurie (a waitress, forty-three; only ever  
Called Maureen by her mother). Eddie's flipping pancakes on the grill  
Paying no mind to the fact that it's six (insists a man should have his fill of  
Breakfast whenever he feels like and this is America after all); stands  
Unusually subdued over steaming batter, almost-burnt.  
Perhaps it's just the rain, thinks Charlie; rain puts a man in a quiet mood  
So much so that no one stops to question him and no one ever thinks it strange.

Charlie can't get those pictures out of his head – the ones from the investigation  
All gored up something awful and he tries to imagine that those people -  
The dead people – are people he loves like his Isabella or Eddie from the diner  
And Billy all bloody and broken. "Completely mutilated," was the FBI guy's  
Clinical assessment, and Charlie wonders if he's a father too; wonders if the job  
Makes it hard for him to go back to his baby every night; if he crawls into bed  
With his wife and lets her hold him because it's so terrible, so terrible.

Things like this don't happen in a town like Forks. The last time  
Charlie looked into a murder was on a Law and Order  
Marathon on TV – shifts uneasily in his seat and thinks he  
Might be unqualified. Still he flips through his blue notebook, creased and frayed;  
Goes through the M.O and wonders if he's met anyone who fits the profile -  
But Forks is a small town and he'd've caught on by now if there was something  
Worth catching on to; smoke and ashes from the ghost of a fire.

"Gotta get to the clinic," says Maurie, clutching her back. "I think it's  
Busted bad." The rain comes down heavy like a million stamping  
Feet; an Indian monsoon. Charlie half expects to be blown away, diner and all.  
"They've a new Doctor," she continues, "A beautiful sonofabitch if I ever  
saw one. Named 'Cullen'. Carlisle Cullen. Ain't that a beautiful name? Like an  
Island or royalty or somethin', y'know? Like he's somethin' special – not one of us."

Charlie is not interested. All he can think about is the angle of  
A dead man's neck and the plum bruises on a dead girl's thigh  
And the way Isabella looked three summers ago when  
He told her to come live with him and she'd said 'no'.  
"He's moved here with his whole family," explains Maurie, one  
Hand fitting napkins into a holder and the other one  
Clutching the small of her back; "Bought the big house  
In the woods. Haven't seen his kids yet, though. Heard they  
Had the chickenpox."

Charlie is busy digging a hole into his piece of pie  
But manages to tear himself away. "Issat so?" he says weakly,  
Mind flitting between here and a crime scene four hours away;  
Imagines he sees death in the red of his cherry filling and tries  
Not to vomit fingers-over-mouth to catch the spill; Maurie's still  
Talking like the world isn't a sick place where good kids die everyday.  
Instead she says, "They're all homeschooled – way ahead of our lot.  
Don't reckon we've got much to do with them for now, but we'll see about  
The spring – blooming magnolia can lure just about anything."

"Still, it's mighty strange," she says, thoughtful silence while  
The glaring fluorescents highlight the bags beaneath her  
eyes - "mighty strange the way they never seem to leave their house.  
They've been here for a month come Tuesday and I've never  
Seen them out- not once. Heck, they could be dead for all we know -  
Alone up in those woods and buried in snow."

Charlie's lost his appetite; slides off his stool gut clenching and  
Breathless like he's run a mile. Clutches the counter white-knuckled  
And complexion turning to chalk; thinks he can walk to the door but  
He's not sure; feels Maurie's eyes burning holes into his back; hears  
Whispers dogging his tracks like they're out for blood.

"Hey, you don't seem right, Charlie - you ought'er put away your  
Noteooks; stop by the clinic and let that nice doctor take a look."

* * *

**June 1981**

Billy is different these days. Back when they were  
Kids he and Charlie used to be inseparable;  
Now he's with those boys from the reserve and he's  
Got no time for games (at least, that's what he says) -  
Charlie doesn't tell him how he heard those chilling  
Howls three nights ago and slipped into the woods;  
How he stumbled in the shadows and might've seen  
Something else entirely; something no-good. Of course  
Charlie knows it's speculation – it was dark and he's been  
Wrong before - still he misses his best friend and hates that  
He's so white and thin and not like all the other boys,  
Broad and brown and wild; hates the colour of his skin  
And wishes he could just_ fit in_ for once.

But wishes belong in fairy tales and  
Charlie knows they have no place here.

* * *

**March 2007**

Isabella has stopped eating. Dinnertime has become  
A charade and Charlie's not sure who she thinks she's  
Fooling; thinks she may have an eating disorder or  
One of those other teenage afflictions (puberty?).

He wishes (not for the first time) that Renee was around;  
Watches the cast shadows on his daughter's hollow cheeks and  
Wonders if she's grown paler. Her eyes have sunk into their  
Sockets and almost seem too big for her face; exaggerated features  
Tell-tale aggravated malnutrition or heartache – he's not too sure which -  
But all the same he's bought steak three times this week because  
He suspects she might be anemic.

Charlie wishes he knew how to talk to his daughter but  
The words stumble on his tongue and all he can ask  
Is "How have things been?" and wonder if her wrists could  
Snap from a high-five (people still do that, right?); asks her if she's  
Still seeing that Cullen boy and is filled with dread at the sight of her  
Tired smile and the admission that they're planning on going  
To the movies tomorrow.

Charlie doesn't trust a man who deals in secrecy;  
Wonders if the reason he thinks as much is because that  
Boy has never set foot in his house* (he knows it's more than  
That; knows it's something intuitive that passed between them when they  
Met; knows that for all his awkwardness his intense distrust was  
_Emphatically _communicated the first time he looked into  
That boy's eyes and saw something feral there). Charlie wants to tell  
Isabella to leave that Cullen kid alone; that he's dangerous and that he  
Has a killer's eyes. Charlie wants to tell her to stay away and to stay safe  
But he remembers how Renee felt stifled and doesn't want to drive  
His girl away too; not when she's the only thing that ties him to the present  
And the only reason he wakes up in the morning anymore.

The room is silent but for the tense clatter of cutlery. Charlie wonders  
When he turned into a spectator of his own life and why he feels so  
Helpless; wishes that he could protect his daughter forever but knows  
That there's no fighting some things – like love (or the stubborn streak that  
Seems to run through the Higginbotham women). Instead, he tells his  
Daughter to be sure to stay safe and keep some pepper spray in her pocket;  
Allows her to roll her eyes in exasperation because she lifts her fork to her  
Mouth for the first time that night and takes a bite of meat.

* * *

**May 1986**

They meet a couple of college girls on the beach at La Push  
And decide to help them build a bonfire on the sand. The air  
Is cooler now that the sky is fast-fading twilight; inky blue  
Seeping between the clouds; winking stars like diamonds against  
The firmament and if Charlie believed in magic he'd think that this was it.

Billy and the boys from the reserve laugh rambunctiously dodging  
Driftwood sparks and playful jabs like puppies but Charlie can't seem  
To muster up the same enthusiasm. Instead he wades ankle-deep  
Into to ocean; lets the wind blow away the noise and closes his eyes; breathes  
Deep and memorises the smell of salt into every inch of his skin;  
Tells himself that one day he'll leave this place behind.

"What are you thinking about?"

Charlie hadn't heard the girl come up behind him and snaps back into reality  
With a jolt. She'd spent the better part of the day swimming and challenging  
The other boys to ridiculous contests (_I bet I can stand on my hands  
Longer than you!_) but now she seems more subdued and almost like an  
Entirely different person. He allows himself to watch her for a moment and decides  
That he likes the honest way she looks into his eyes sans hesitation or concealed intent.

"I was thinking about possibility," he says.

"The ocean'll do that to you, won't it?"

Yes, he supposes, it might. He's never really considered  
Metaphor before, but looking into this girl's eyes (straight; unwavering;  
Brown-gold flickering against The light; beautiful) Charlie thinks  
He sees something that he has unknowingly been waiting for his whole life.

"I'm Charlie," he says, arm extended through the shell he  
Lives behind; hand soon clasped in hers bound by a smile  
And the magic of the twilight sky receding with the sun.

"Renee."

* * *

**NOTES**

* Seeing as vampires traditionally can't step into your house unless you invite them in.


End file.
